


Yesterday

by Sexyheisenbeast



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Backstory, Blow Jobs, First Time, Frottage, Gravity Falls AU, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:13:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6675634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexyheisenbeast/pseuds/Sexyheisenbeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story takes place after the West Coast Tech incident. </p>
<p>AU, my take on Ford's personality and thought processes</p>
<p>Work In Progress</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This Divide Between You And I](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4371392) by [cellard00rs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs). 



> This is my first Stancest fanfic and I hope you like it. It started out as an idea for a one shot, but I think it has potential for an actual fic. I'll let you be the judge of that.
> 
> Please forgive me in advance for any tagging errors, this is my first time posting on Ao3
> 
> Tumblr: http://sexyheisenbeast.tumblr.com/

Ford didn't know how he could show his face in school again... what would people think? "The smartest kid in school couldn't even make it into that prestigious college. He really is a loser." This was his chance to prove himself, that he wasn't just a "Freak" and just as fast as the opportunity had come... it was gone. And Stanley... his brother... God, he didn't even want to think about him... he hated Stan. How could his own brother have done this to him? He knew how important this was to him and now he'd gone and ruined his one and only chance to go to his dream school.

Walking through the front doors of the school and into the main hallway, Stanford kept his head down. He didn't want to see anyone's faces. He was used to the stares and looks he was given for his anomaly, but he didn't know if he could bare more disapproval.

And now, stepping into class.. he walked straight over to his seat, pulled out his textbook and buried himself in work. He busied himself to keep his mind occupied so he wouldn't be tempted to glance around the room.

Good, he'd made it to lunch. He could do this. A thought occurred to him in the back of his mind "Where's Stan?" He hadn't seen him all day. But he stopped himself and shut that concern down, consoling himself "Why do you care? Don't you remember what he did? And surely Stan wouldn't be so stupid as to miss an entire day of school. Getting what's left of an education for him is the most important thing he can do. It will help him to at least get a decent job somewhere in New Jersey, maybe even more of a job than standing behind a grill." But, again Ford pushed those thoughts aside. 

Why did he care about Stanley? Stanley sure didn't care about him.

Barely touching his lunch, the crowds in the cafeteria all stand and begin to clear out. Ford tossed out his trash and followed behind them. He glanced up and read the clock hanging high up in the ceiling. Twelve forty five, time for the last class of the day... the one he'd have with Stan.. He'd just give him the cold shoulder. He truly didn't have anything left to say to his twin. But, that sick churning feeling in his stomach settled when he saw that Stan wasn't there. "But, where is he? He just blew off school like that? What if something bad happened to him?-" he cut off those thoughts and reminded himself that Stan was old enough to make his own choices and if he chose to throw away his education, then so be it. But, Ford would be damned if he gave up his chance to make something of himself. 

Thumbing through the pages of his textbook once again and scribbling down words on a sheet of loose-leaf paper, Stanford kept himself busy for the rest of the day.

The bell rings to dismiss everyone. The end of the day could not come soon enough. He can only hope that the rest of his day will go smoothly.

Tucking his things away in his satchel, Ford starts off towards the fire exit to walk home. He didn't know why he was going this way, it was just his normal routine he had gotten used to. Normally Stan would drive them both home or to the beach where they'd spend their afternoon working on the Stan 'O War. Drinking Pitt and listening to their small radio they kept hidden in the boat, their bodies covered in sweat and the ocean breeze hitting them and cooling them off.

He tried to push these thoughts from his mind, but he couldn't help it.

The fond memories he shared of him and his brother. They had so much history together. They had hopes and dreams to sail off on that boat and solve mysteries and discover distant lands and ruins; to find adventure.

He can imagine him and Stan working on the boat, laughing and joking with one another and remembering how happy Stan was, it warmed Ford's heart.

As much as he wanted to hate Stan for what he did, he couldn't seem to get him off of his mind.

Walking down the street, passing the local stores and parlors, Ford can hear so many sounds in the air around him. He focuses more on his surroundings. Trying to have the noises drown out the volume of his own thoughts, Ford never realized how "sound" the place where he'd lived all these years was. He had just always heard car horns blaring and young reckless drivers speeding down the roads in their new cars. But, now he listened carefully and he could hear the sounds of happy chatter, the seagulls on the beach squawking, and the calming sound of waves hitting the beach. Everything is so much brighter than it looked minutes ago. Ford sighed heavily. He hated to admit it, but Ford loved Stan. He was always there for him whenever Ford needed him. He protected him and encouraged him and he accepted him for who he was. Even Ford and his "Sci-Fi weirdness" as Stan liked to call it.

He felt a pang of guilt for not standing up for him when their father kicked him out and he wondered where Stan was. So caught up in his thoughts, when Ford turned his head and glanced at the other side of the street at the shaded beach, he realized how hot it had gotten out. He wiped the sweat off his brow, rolled up his sleeves and proceeded to cross the road to walk in the shade. He stared into the woods and thought of the boat once more. Maybe he and Stan could sail around a little during summer break before Ford starts his freshman year at whatever college he decided to go to. No, he was being too hopeful. He was still infuriated with Stan for what he did and he didn't know if he could ever forgive him.

He turned his attention away from the trees to refocus on the sidewalk- wait. He caught a glimpse of something. He turns his head around and checks again. There's a figure.. a-almost a body maybe... Stanford gulps and his curiosity gets the better of him. He slowly inches further into the shaded area and - oh, now he can see torn clothing and- and there's- blood. Oh no, the person's injured... He cautiously gets closer to check to see if they're still alive and he kneels down, reaching his hand out to roll the person over to see if they're breathing. They're a little heavy, but Ford pushes them over slowly, taking a deep breath just to prepare himself for the worst when- he almost jumps out of his skin, his face pales- "Oh God! Stanley! Stanley, wake up!" But no response. He just lies there motionless in his brother's arms. Ford tries to breathe, he has to get him to the hospital. He breathes in and out slowly a few times, remembering how to carry someone when they're unconscious. He pulls Stan over his shoulder and drags his weight, luckily he isn't as heavy as he looks but he's still heavy.

Out of the sand and onto the sidewalk, Ford raises his hand and calls for a taxi. "Take us to the hospital, fast!" He carefully rests Stan down onto the seat and he sits down next to him, holding his head in his lap, nervous tears running down his face. "Stan, please be okay." He silently and brokenly pleads. The still wet blood from Stan's gash in his head coats Ford's fingers, but he still continues to gently rub his brother's head - hoping that it'll help him heal or that it will somehow make up for Ford just letting Stan get kicked out. He winces at the memory... he pulls Stan's body closer to his chest and he holds him, his tears now falling from his face and onto his twin's shirt. He brushes his thumb across Stan's cheek... He's suddenly realizing that Stan is the only person he ever had that truly loved and cared about him.. How could he let this happen to Stan... Sure he was mad at him, but he didn't want Stanley to die! He was his brother and his best friend and now because of him, he didn't know if he would live to see another day. He cried harder, holding his twin tighter. He rested his head on top of Stan's to just be as close to him as he could be, to try to calm himself before the true worrying began.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so sorry for the long wait. I forgot how hard it is to write fanfics. 
> 
> Anyway, here's Chapter Two. Hope you like it :)
> 
> As always, feel free to leave comments and opinions

It wasn't long before the taxi pulled up to the emergency entrance. The driver had to bring Ford back to reality, calling him and shaking his shoulder as Ford just blankly stared at his injured twin. No emotion visible, just in shock from the predicament he was in.

Ford blinked and shook his head, hurriedly getting out of the cab and pulling Stan out of the seat.

He struggles with Stan, carrying him over his shoulder as best as he can. He mentally thanks God for sliding doors.

In the E.R. Ford shouts "Help, someone please help him!" A nurse glances over her booth and calls for assistance on a telephone hanging nearby. Ford keeps dragging Stan until two male aides and a doctor burst from behind the double doors across the room.

It's amazing how things can change within an instant. He sat with Stan for what felt like an eternity in the taxi and now everything was in hyper drive. Minutes ago he had Stan in his arms and right now, the male orderlies laid Stanley's body down on a gurney and were racing through the hallways to get him to the O.R. Ford kept up with them and followed beside them, holding Stan's hand until the personnel vanished behind another set of double doors and stated that he stay in the waiting room.

It was out of Ford's hands now.

Now the fear had set in. The agonizing time to pass and nothing to do but wait until someone came to talk to him. The nurses corralled Stanford back into the waiting area, but he was still on full alert. He swore his heart had never beat so hard in his life.

It took Ford all of three seconds to start walking around the room worrying again. Some kind nurses peeked out of their stations and tried to say something to comfort Ford, but he raised his hand to stop them and continued pacing. He glanced down at himself, boy he must be a sight. His white shirt stained with his brother's blood, from his chest down to the waist of his jeans. He didn't know if he'd ever get the stains out or how he'd keep his parents from seeing them and right now he couldn't care less. In fact, he felt closer to Stan now that he had something of his with him, and if this is all he had at the moment to hold onto that would bring him comfort, then he'd cling to it.

His legs started to ache and he was forced to sit down, the chair facing the entrance seemed best. Ford felt that if he saw a doctor coming, he'd be able to determine what kind of state his twin was in, or at least he'd feel less anxious seeing the doctor walk in.

Ford's face felt sticky from his dried sweat and tears and he'd needed to relieve himself for a while now, but he refused to leave Stan's side. His head fell into his hands as he rubbed his eyes under his glasses, eventually taking them off for a few minutes to just sit and close his eyes. To take deep breaths and rub his face, trying to figure out how all of this could have happened. His anxiety lessened a little, but not much. Ford ran his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. His other hand still holding the dangling glasses by his side.

Even the music drifting into the room from a radio somewhere nearby doesn't help Ford. He remembers a time Stan stood in front of their parent's television and tapped his foot to the beat, snapping along to it. He turned to Ford and started swaying his shoulders while smiling at him. "C'mon Ford, dance with me." Ford had been sitting in the kitchen at the table, doing homework as always. And he didn't understand why he continued to work on it there because Stan seemed to constantly distract him from his work. He looked up at Stanley and a smile found it's way onto Ford's face, even though he tried to hold it back. "Alright, but just this once." He'd said that many times over. 

It's not like school really challenged Ford and hey, it couldn't hurt to humor his brother, right?

Stan really had a passion for dancing. Ford never understood why people liked to dance until he danced with Stan.

The distinct sound of a door smacking a wall caught Ford's attention. He stood to brace himself for whatever would happen next. He glanced at the clock on the opposite wall- had it really been two hours?

The doctor approached Ford.

"Is he alive?" he chokes on the words as they leave his mouth. Then the doctor smiles and Ford's chest feels a lot less constricted. "Yes, he's fine. He's stable, he'll need to stay on bed rest for at least a week so his head can heal. His arm'll take a few weeks to a month to heal, it all depends on his recovery time. He has a single cracked rib-" The doctor drabbles on, but "He's fine'" is all Ford needed to hear. He has to hold back a sigh he's held throughout this whole ordeal. Tears threaten to roll down his cheeks, but he blinks and takes a breath. "Can I- can I see him?" Ford struggles to ask. "Yes, follow me, I'll lead you to him." The doctor motions for Ford to walk ahead of him as he holds open the door. 

Just when Ford thought his heart couldn't beat any harder, his ears started to pound in tune with his footfalls. The closer he got to Stan's room, the louder the ringing in his ears grew.

When Ford glanced into the room he gasped. Stanley had gauze wrapped all around his head, along with his arm. Ford covered his mouth with his hand as the doctor stepped in behind him. "Yeah, he's been out cold. We can lend you a wheelchair in the meantime to get him where you need to be. Feel free to return it when he's back on his feet."

Those tears that Ford tried to force away were welling up in his eyes again.

"Like I said, bed rest and his pain meds. Check and clean his stitches on his head and his hand every other day. If you see any sign of infection, bring him in. But, other than that, he's good to go." Ford doesn't know what to say... he just swallows hard and replies "Thank you." "Anytime. Have a good rest of your night." The doctor leaves them to see to other patients.

Ford slowly approaches Stan and when he reaches him, he falls to his knees and he wraps his arms around him. The tears finally start to run as he pulls him closer, sobbing into his chest. Clinging onto the feeling of being close to him. "Don't worry Stan, I'm going to be here for you now."

Recomposing himself, he straightens himself up and rolls Stan out. A bag with Stan's belongings and his medicinal supplies resting on his lap. Ford doesn't want anyone else to touch Stan so he decides to wheel him to the nearest motel after the endless white corridors and twists and turns of the hospital.

It's well over dark out when they leave through the sliding doors at the front of the hospital. Ford looks up at the stars in the sky and sighs, checking all directions around him trying to find a bright dingy motel sign. He spots one about a block away.

Ford can't help but feel utterly grateful in this moment. Stan is going to be alright. Maybe something in the stars helped calm his racing mind, but he was glad Stan was okay. Their relationship however, they'd need to work on.

The keeper at the desk doesn't seem to care about Stan's lack of consciousness or the fact that they're both obviously teenagers. He just hands Ford a key and says "Try not to break anything." As he chuckles and disappears behind a bead curtain. Ford is puzzled by his actions, but he chooses to ignore him. It's been a long day and he just wants to rest.

Ford is pleasantly surprised when he finds that the room is so well equipped. There's a TV small enough that he can move it beside the bed so Stan doesn't whine about being bored while he's on bed rest, and the floor is all level which will make trips to the bathroom much much easier for the both of them.

He locks the door and decides to call their mom and dad. Ever since what happened with West Coast Tech, his parents have been easy on him. So when his mother says "okay" to Ford 'spending the night at a friend's' He isn't surprised. "Just make sure you're at school on time." "I will Mom, see you soon. Bye." He figures he should stay with Stan for the night to keep an eye on him. He takes a nice long look at Stan, besides the fact that he looks like a wreck, Ford wonders how he's going to move Stan gently into bed without possibly waking him. He takes a deep breath and wraps an arm around Stan's shoulders, the other under his legs. It takes all the energy left in him to hoist Stan and maneuver him into bed. After pulling the covers over him, Ford can't help but grin seeing Stan in a slightly over sized black T-shirt. He looks so peaceful, so calm.

Ford shakes his head and snaps out of it, untying his shoes and setting them on the floor next to the couch. He lays down on the couch and rests his glasses on the nightstand behind him, pulling the cord to the lamp enveloping the room in darkness. Lying in the silent room on the couch, Ford feels miles away from Stan. But he closes his eyes and imagines what life was like before everything fell into disarray. He remembered the jokes, the laughs. He never laughed unless Stan told him a joke or did something so ridiculous that he couldn't believe. Even the awkward times they shared like when Stan asked who Ford liked and when he avoided the question for himself, he asked Stan and he went into detail how he felt about girls in their school.

Somehow, Ford's mind slows and sleep soon washes over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half of this chapter was written out, so I hope the second half flows along with it. Hopefully I'll update not too far in the future.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for your feedback, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!:)


End file.
